Friday, March 16, 2012

It Was The Best Of Times....Fuck You!

I was on cloud nine yesterday.  The first massive deadline was about to pass without a hitch, the sun was out and everything in my life seemed so right, so good. 

I was being punked.

The work was moving swiftly thru the proper channels, everything was as it should be and, any day now, I'll get the contract for the apartment purchase.  That's right, we finally found a place and had an accepted offer and all was golden.

Wait, let me backtrack.

We had an accepted offer a couple of months ago too.  We were so damned excited.  A great apartment, a touch smaller than we wanted, but it was in an incredible building and it was pretty much in move in condition.  Then, after we all agreed on a price, the owners, who had the apartment on, and off, the market for two years, claim they told their kids and their kids cried and that was the end of their moving out.  And these are two high school aged kids, brother and sister, who are sharing a room.

Incestuous fucks probably didn't want to give up the chance to play hide the salami like mommy and daddy, regardless of the wrongness of taking big bro in the can.

Anyway, that was the first.  This second was better.  Same price, a touch more work, great building.  Fucker even had a pool on the roof. Not that we'd use it but, still, it was there so we could claim we had a pool.

And so, after a week of conversations with our broker, gathering paperwork, getting all the crap together so I can submit shit to the co-op board, my broker asks me when I'm signing the contract.  I call my lawyer to see where we stand and he says he hasn't seen or heard from anyone, other than me, since the offer was accepted.

This was strange because my broker told me my lawyer was reading the co-op's minutes this past Tuesday. 

I call the broker and ask her if this is all a big fucking joke.  She says it isn't, my lawyer was reading the minutes on Tuesday.  I tell her what he told me, she hangs up and, five minutes later she says "they had a contract out on the apartment when they accepted your offer."

In other words, these scumbags were still shopping their home, just in case there was a hitch with the current contract.

So, for the second time in two months, I make my wife cry and it had nothing to do with my big mouth, my inability to please her or my lack of manhood.

The broker calls me back and tells me there's another apartment in the building that's also for sale.  Needs a bit more work, has a terrace and is on a higher floor with a slightly lower price and they won't budge.  They are not negotiating, she tells me.

I tell her to offer $100,000 less.  She says they won't respond to it.  I tell her that, as my broker, if I asked her to offer 3 bagels and a bag of my own shit, she would have to do it and she tells me it's a waste of time, they won't respond.

I hang up, thinking, perhaps, I should shit in a bag and see if I can't get it to my broker.

My wife calls me a bit later to tell me we made an offer on the other apartment.  When I ask how much, she tells me $20,000 below the ask and then she says they won't accept it because they aren't negotiating.

Today, our broker calls to tell us the seller will be back on Sunday and, in the interim, they are thinking about our offer.

So they are willing to take less.  Fucking broker cares about her commission and nothing else.

So, there's hope again.  A glimmer but, still, hope.

And then my wife calls to tell me that we need to move quickly if we want the apartment.  I ask why and she says "there's a contract out and the buyer has been trying to sell their house in the hamptons before signing the contract."

In other words, we could be told, on Sunday, that the apartment is ours, only to be told the signed contract arrived on Monday and we're out.  The only way we might be able to bump up to the front of the line would be to outbid the other offer which, I'm guessing, is for the non-negotiable price they were originally seeking.

This week has been like a roller coaster.  Only, instead of thrill inducing ups and downs, it's been more like hugs and kicks in the balls.

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